A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire
by Greydappledowl
Summary: Larra Snow lived with an uncertain future. When the King's Hand dies and Robert Baratheon rides North to Winterfell, she finds her world turned upside down. Stannis Baratheon finds himself captivated by the fiery, passionate woman and would have her, even as war looms on the horizon. As the men ride to war, Larra stays in Winterfell and discovers the true meaning of Fire and Blood
1. Chapter 1

A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire

Chapter One

Larra felt her little brother flinch when Ice, House Stark's Valyrian steel blade, came down and executed the deserter. Her hands squeezed Bran's shoulders in a show of support, understanding what he was feeling. Herself and Robb had been eight as well, the first time they watched their father dispense the King's Justice. Robb had flinched as well, his hand flashing over to hold her own as she paled and fought down bile. She remembered Theon's first time, the Ironborn making horrible jokes about criminals and beheadings. Even now, years later, it was obvious that Lord Stark's attempts at teaching Theon honor had been for naught as the older boy kicked the deserter's head away from the body. Larra turned Bran around to look at him, hoping to keep him from the sight of Theon's disgusting display. Did he have no respect for the dead?

"You did well, Bran."

Her compliment was enough to distract Bran from Theon's own comments with the guards. Bran was obviously relieved that everything was over and gave Larra a smile in gratitude, even if it was a bit weak. Seeing their father coming to speak with him, she turned away and checked over her saddle. Snowstorm had been a gift for her sixteenth namesday, over a year ago and chosen from among the herds of House Ryswell. The stallion had a grey-dappled coat with black stockings, mane and tail. As she stroked Snowstorm's neck, she listened as their father explained the reason behind his actions to Bran.

"The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die."

Larra felt the strength of her father's words fill her up and she was proud to be of the North. They may not have colorful clothing, fancy tourneys and all the splendor of court life, but Larra preferred the simple things. Her father instilled in her the importance of the strength of character, honor and bravery. Despite being a bastard and a woman, her father had allowed her to learn alongside Robb since before Sansa was born. Even when Septa Mordane joined the household, Larra learned the more 'womanly' pursuits from the maids and servants around Winterfell. Therefore, she was probably the most knowledgable person in Westeros, outside of the Citadel. She had learned everything Robb had learned as the heir to Winterfell, like politics, strategy and maneuvers and law and order. She was taught maths, economy, history and geography from Maester Luwin while a travelling musician had taught her how to play the harp, to sing and dance. Of course, Ser Roderick was in charge of swordplay and archery.

When the conversation turned to the deserter's last words, Larra felt a shiver run down her spine. Just like all the Stark children, Larra too had been told of the Northern myths and legends from Old Nan. Just a few months ago, Arya and Bran had persuaded her to go with them into the Godswood in the middle of the night to look for the Children of the Forest. While it had been years since she last feared being turned into a Wright by the Others, the words alone seemed to blare in her mind like a warning. There was something that struck her mind and stirred her heart every time such stories were mentioned. While most people, even Northmen, considered the tales nothing but something to scare children with, Larra often wondered if it was all true. Was it truly so hard to believe? The Wall stood over seven hundred feet high, stretched over three hundred miles across the Northern border and was made entirely of ice. Surely, if the Wall existed and Dragons weren't too long extinct, then the Others could be real?

"Are you alright, Larra?"

Robb's question broke Larra from her thoughts and she nodded to the redhead. She mounted Snowstorm as Robb helped Bran onto his pony and before long, their group was heading back to Winterfell.

-:- -:- -:- .Game of Thrones. -:- -:- -:-

Larra tried to smother her smile as she watched Arya join the line her siblings formed. She stood behind them all, Theon on her left and Maester Luwin on her right. They were lined up from eldest to youngest, Robb at their father's side, then Sansa, Arya and Bran. Rickon, at six, stood at Lady Catelyn's side. A month ago, after arriving back at Winterfell from the execution and finding the Direwolf pups, they were all told that the King was coming North. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, had died and Larra had her suspicions on the King's timely visit. While the King greeted her father and siblings, Larra's grey eyes swept over the Southern party and tried to put names to faces. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Hound, Prince Joffrey and Ser Barristan Selmy were among the more well-known people. As her eyes roamed, they met a pair of blue ones that belonged to a tall man with broad shoulders and a stern face. Embarrassed at getting caught, Larra diverted her eyes and kept her gaze on the ground until everyone was dismissed. She wove through the crowd, feeling eyes on her back but refusing to look behind her.

A few hours later, Larra had changed from her dress into her usual training clothes. Her tunic, leather jerkin, trousers and boots were all black in color, helping her blend in with the darkness of night. Robb liked to joke that she dressed like a man of the Night's Watch, often calling her 'lady crow'. Of course, it was usually followed by Theon singing the song of Brave Danny Flint in an attempt at being funny. And as usual, he missed the mark by a mile. The sounds of the feast in the Great Hall spilled outside, causing Larra to strike the dummy harder with her practice sword. She hated that Lady Catelyn had banned her from the Welcoming Feast, citing her status as the reason. King Robert had numerous bastards, surely her presence wouldn't bother him? He probably wouldn't even notice her among the guards with the way he liked to drink. Like usual, Lady Catelyn took every opportunity to remind Larra of the clear distance between herself and her true born siblings. Like usual, Larra pondered on how she could make her own way in the world. She didn't want to be some servant or maid, when Robb became Lord of Winterfell after their father.

"Is he dead yet?"

Larra spun on her heel, recognizing the voice immediately and grinning at the new arrival.

"Uncle Benjen!"

Setting down her sword, she ran and embraced her uncle. Benjen had always supported her, whether by listening to her vent or by encouraging her to be herself. Unlike Lady Catelyn, who was cold and her father, who would sometimes distance himself from her, Benjen was always warm and welcoming.

"By the Old Gods," he said, looking down at her with a smile. "...you grow more beautiful every time I see you."

"Don't let Lady Catelyn hear you say that," Larra replied dryly. "Father has been getting offers from his bannermen for my hand in marriage. None of them have been foolish enough to offer a first born son yet, but she's still angry about it."

"He hasn't accepted any of them, has he?"

"No. He says none of them are good enough for me."

"He's right about that," Benjen agreed. "You need a True Knight or a Prince."

"You sound like Sansa," she replied. "I don't need some arrogant Knight or pompous Prince. I would be happy with a simple farmer as long as he was honorable and faithful to me. A man who could look beyond my face and see value in my thoughts, ideas and opinions."

"I hope you get just that, niece. You deserve to be happy."

Larra scoffed, "I think I have a better chance of hiding myself among the Night's Watch or becoming a sworn shield in Dorne."

"Larra."

"You should get inside, uncle. You don't want to miss out on the revelry."

Benjen sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he entered the Great Hall. Larra picked up her sword again and got a few strikes in before she was once again interrupted. A noise drew her attention away from the dummy and her eyes fell on who only could be Tyrion Lannister.

"What are you doing back there?"

"I'm preparing to spend time with your family," he replied, holding up a wineskin. "You are Lord Stark's bastard, aren't you?"

"If you're intention is to insult me, you might as well go join the feast," Larra stated, turning back to the dummy.

"Sorry. Sorry," he drawled out. "I didn't mean to offend you...but you are the bastard?"

"Lord Stark is my father."

"And Lady Catelyn is not your mother, making you...the bastard."

Larra remained silent, her jaw clenched tight. It was one thing to hear her status spoken by Lady Catelyn or Septa Mordane, but another thing entirely when it was by some Southern guest.

"Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you."

"Is that what you do?" Larra asked, spinning around to face him. "When Lord Tywin Lannister is staring you down, comparing you to your Kingsguard brother and your Queen sister? When everyone looks passed your intelligence and only sees an Imp? A Dwarf? A Monster?"

"Perhaps, we are bearing our parents sins? My father, ignoring his vows for some camp trollop, or tavern maid, or fisherman's daughter. Yours, for...well, every man, woman and child knows of Tywin Lannister's reputation."

"A sharp wit, an even sharper tongue with the face of the Maiden herself," he said, smiling at her and raising his wineskin as if in toast. "I think we will get along just fine, Lady Snow."

"It's Larra."

"Tyrion...and now, I bid you a good night."

"Good night."

Larra tracked his progess to the Great Hall, pondering on how his shadow grew as he got farther away. It seemed that even small men can create large shadows. Her body tensed when she heard shifting behind her and for the third time in an hour's time, she spun to find a man staring at her. If she hadn't been so upset and angry at the situation already, she might have been able to hold her tongue. Especially since the man was the same one she'd locked eyes with that morning. His gaze was intense and Larra felt his eyes boring into her own. She glared back at him in defiance.

"What now? What do you want? Come to get a look at the honorable Lord Stark's bastard too?"

"Well?" Larra asked, when he remained silent after her rant.

"I was merely surprised to find a woman practicing swordplay."

"Yes," Larra replied harshly. "It would be quite a sight for a Southron like you, wouldn't it? I'll have you know that the women of Bear Island fight alongside the men."

"You are not a woman of Bear Island."

"I've been lucky that my father allowed me to attend lessons with Robb, from what is expected of him as the heir to Winterfell to swordplay and archery. Of course, I've also learned the more 'lady-like' pursuits as well. My education, despite my status, has never lacked," she defended, her brows furrowing.

"But would you be able to use a sword for its true purpose? Would you be able to kill a man?"

"If the occasion calls for it. Try to harm my family or myself and you'll see just where the pointy end of my blade ends up. I promise you...it won't be pleasant."

For just a moment, Larra thought she saw the corners of his lips turn up. The moment passed and she decided it must have been a trick of the moonlight and darkness of night.

"I wouldn't go skulking about at night, my lord. You are in the North now and you might get caught by a wolf."

"Your advice is noted."

"Goodnight, then, my lord."

She swept into a graceful curtsey, adding a bit of a mocking dramatic flare to it. Larra spun around again and left the man behind her. Usually, she was much more reserved with strangers but the night had worn her down. She was seventeen and no closer to starting a life of her own than ever before. While she didn't envy Sansa, who had been betrothed to Prince Joffrey, it was a blow as her younger sister was only thirteen. When would it be Larra's turn? When would she be allowed to leave Winterfell? Some days, she felt as if she never wanted to leave. On other days, she felt as if she would never become anything more than Lord Stark's bastard if she didn't get out. She loved Winterfell, but with every year that passed, the walls felt more and more like a cage.

A/N: I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire or any of the characters...all rights belong to G.R.R. Martin, HBO and all those guys...


	2. Chapter 2

A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire

Chapter Two

Larra summoned every ounce of strength her Stark blood gave her and approached the man from the previous night. The clarity of morning had shown her just how foolish and impetuous her words had been to the wholly unknown man. Even as a Snow, she should uphold her father's and siblings' name when it came to interacting with their guests. Now, the men had gathered in the courtyard for a hunt on the bidding of the King and Larra saw it as her chance to apologize. In the light of day, it was clear just how much the man towered over her. The top of her head barely came up to his broad shoulders. While lean, she could see the strength in the muscles hidden beneath his dark clothing. He was obviously no stranger to the battlefield.

"Excuse me, my lord."

Larra cursed her pale skin as her cheeks flushed upon earning three pairs of eyes on her. The man looked the same as he had the first time she saw him, wearing a black doublet with no embellishments but of good quality. His dark hair was slightly receding and his contenance stern. Despite not being as obviously handsome as the younger man at his side or even as striking as Ser Jaime Lannister was, the man appealed to her. She appreciated the way he held himself, powerful without being dominating and the way his features fit his face. Though, it was his deep blue eyes that Larra couldn't help but stare at. Nodding politely at the men with him, Larra turned back to the man. She really needed to learn his name.

"I wish to apologize for last night, my lord. It was childish of me to allow my emotions to get the best of me and I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did," she said, giving him a proper curtsey. "Please, forgive me."

As grey once again met blue, Larra felt that he was looking for something in her face. He didn't look angry nor was he laughing at her, so Larra thought it was going rather well. Though, the two men next to him were looking curious. He opened his mouth to speak, but a commotion across the courtyard caught their attention. Prince Joffrey was standing over a girl on the ground, sneering down at her.

"Don't touch me! You'll infect me with your ugliness!"

Larra bristled with anger at the Prince's words, moving to help the girl and unkowingly, cutting off the man mid-stride. She helped the girl to her feet, brushing the dirt from her dress.

"Are you alright?" she asked, crouching down to the girl's level and looking into tear-filled blue eyes.

With the new closeness, Larra could see the girl's face and instantly knew who she was. It was well-known, even in the North, that Shireen Baratheon had been afflicted with Greyscale as a babe and had the scars to prove it. Shireen nodded timidly, looking down at her feet. Larra stood again, offering her hand to the girl.

"Come on," she murmured gently. "I'll take you to get cleaned up."

Shireen took it shyly, peeking up at Larra and getting a smile from the older girl. She turned to lead the girl towards the guest quarters, only to find the man behind her. Larra went to speak but Shireen beat her to it.

"Father."

Larra's head whipped to the side to look at Shireen, before her eyes trailed back to the man. For a moment, she felt like dropping her head and groaning like Arya did when faced with sewing lessons. Fortunately, such a sound didn't escape her, but she felt the telltale heat spread over her face. Her mortification from her words the night before turned to horror upon learning that the man was Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone, Master of Ships and younger brother to the King. As if it wasn't bad enough to lose her normal composure with a stranger, but it had to be a highborn lord as well?

"Go with Lady Larra, Shireen. After you're cleaned up, I expect you to attend lessons with the other girls."

Larra's eyes snapped up to meet Lord Stannis's blue ones. He gave her a single, curt nod before turning around and joining the men. Something in her chest loosened to see that he had forgiven her. Leading Shireen to her room, she helped the girl change into a new dress. Larra brushed through her hair and styled it as well, smiling as Shireen seemed to blossom under the attention. Beneath the shyness and insecurity lay an intelligent, sweet girl.

"Have you taken lessons from a Septa before, Shireen?"

"No, my lady. My father believes that if there's anything to learn, a Maester can teach me."

"Well, if all Septas are like Septa Mordane, then I agree with your father," Larra murmured quietly.

"What is wrong with Septa Mordane?"

"I don't like how she admonishes my sister, Arya, while praising my sister, Sansa. Arya doesn't care much for the gentler pursuits of ladies. She's rather terrible at sewing and embroidery, but I think it's because she simply doesn't care for it. If she did, I know she'd get better at it, like how she practiced everyday when I taught her archery."

"She also looks down on me, because I'm a bastard...so you don't need to call me 'lady'."

"I want to," Shireen said, looking up at her as they walked. "You act and speak like a lady. You're beautiful, kind and graceful like a lady. Plus, my father called you a lady too."

Larra didn't reply, thinking about how Lord Stannis did, in fact, call her a lady. Unlike when Theon says it, he sounded earnest. She could tell that he wasn't the kind to mock others. Still, she couldn't help but wonder why he would call her such. Had he overheard some of the conversation she had with her uncle and Tyrion? Is that why he did it? Shaking her thoughts away, she opened the door and ushered Shireen into the room. Her sisters, Sansa and Arya, Jeyne Poole, Princess Myrcella, a Lannister girl and now, Shireen, were there for the sewing lesson. After Septa Mordane gave a less than satisfactory welcome to Shireen, Larra decided to stay for the lesson to help the shy girl. Between Septa Mordane's inattention for anyone but Sansa and the Princess and Sansa and Jeyne's undisguised glances towards Shireen's scars, Larra decided enough was enough. As the lesson ended, she offered to take the Princess, her companion and Shireen to see the Glass Gardens. Sansa was obviously angry and upset that Larra purposefully neglected to invite her.

-:- -:- -:- .Game of Thrones. -:- -:- -:-

"I've finished with my handkerchief, Lady Larra."

Larra looked up from her own embroidery and set it aside to take Shireen's finished product. On the square piece of pristine white cloth, a black doe was stitched neatly in the bottom corner with a wreath of golden flowers around it.

"You did a good job on it, Shireen. Your stitches are neater than before and the detail in the flowers gives it something extra."

"Thank you, Lady Larra. I couldn't have done it without you teaching me."

"It's my pleasure. I love the time we spend together."

Shireen, only seven-years old, blushed at her words. Larra had been asked by her father to keep to the more 'ladylike' activities during the King's stay. Instead of spending hours in the training yard with her bow and sword, she had taken to attending the sewing and music lessons with the other girls. After that first failed lesson, Larra had taken to giving Shireen one-on-one lessons. Arya had been quick to join them, though usually ended up swinging around Larra's old wooden sword. It had been a few days and Larra couldn't help wondering about what Lord Stannis thought about his daughter spending so much time with her. When she wasn't teaching Shireen sewing, embroidery or the harp, they were reading in the Library Tower or spending time in the Glass Gardens. Shireen had a keen mind and loved hearing about the Northern legends and stories. The young woman had noticed that it wasn't just Shireen's attention she caught but that of Lord Stannis as well. She often felt his eyes on her and they had locked eyes across the Great Hall or courtyard several times already. Larra figured he wanted to keep an eye on his daughter, but he had yet to tell her to stay away from Shireen.

"What would you like to do now?" Larra asked, standing up and stretching from sitting still for so long.

A moment passed and when Shireen remained silent, Larra looked at the girl. Shireen was staring at her knees and Larra frowned, having hoped they were beyond the shyness and uncertainty.

"What is it, Shireen? You know you can speak to me about anything."

"I overheard a conversation between my father and some of Winterfell's guards this morning. My father asked after you, something about your training, and they said that you were the best with a blade in all of Winterfell. They said no one, not even Lord Robb or the Captain of the Guard, can best you in a sword fight."

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" Larra asked, teasing her.

"Can I watch you train?"

"Shireen...I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Lady Catelyn told me not to embarrass House Stark by acting like a Wildling. I'm already on thin ice with her, after not including Sansa on the tour of the Glass Gardens with you and Princess Myrcella."

"Isn't there somewhere that we can do it secretly? Winterfell is so big and Lady Catelyn is spending the morning with the Queen, isn't she? No one will have to know," Shireen suggested eagerly. "Please?"

Whether because she missed the feeling of a sword in her hand or she liked seeing Shireen so open, Larra couldn't say no. She nodded, laughing when Shireen cheered in victory. After putting away their sewing supplies and getting changed, Larra led Shireen to a deserted, unused courtyard near the Broken Tower. Both Arya and Bran had spied them and now, the three children sat on overturned buckets and crates to watch her. Larra slowly went through the stances and moves to strike, parry and block, explaining why each one was important in a sword fight. She had just started to move through the stances more quickly, spinning on her feet and thrusting her sword at imaginary foes when they were interrupted.

"Air can't be too good of an opponent," came the smooth, arrogant tone of Ser Jaime Lannister. "For one, air can't fight back."

The Knight of the Kingsguard was wearing a light beige leather tunic with matching trousers and high boots in place of his white and gold Kingsguard armor. His golden blonde hair was swept away from his face and the ends brushed his collar. Green eyes studied her from a handsome face that held a taunting smirk.

"Are you volunteering?"

Ser Jaime raised an eyebrow at her bold challenge, "I am interested to see if the rumors are true."

"Rumors?"

"If you are truly the best swordsman the North had to offer," he replied. "Which would be amusing...for the best fighter to be such a little lady."

"Women of the North aren't so delicate like the women in the South."

Ser Jaime tilted his head and unsheathed his sword, Larra instantly shifting her feet to brace for the fight in response. Ser Jaime was one of the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms and Larra would be lying if she said she didn't wonder how she'd measure up to him. Robb and Jory Cassel were good but Ser Jaime was on another level completely. She knew that as a man, he was stronger than her, so she needed to use her speed and smaller size to her advantage. Arya cheered her on as the first blows were exchanged. As their exchange grew more intense and it became a real fight, no longer testing out the other, Larra had to fend against his stronger strikes. She met his next strike and moved closer, the momentum of his blow sending his blade down her own to hit the ground. Ser Jaime teetered a bit at the displacement of weight on his feet. Larra didn't allow him to recover, quickly delivering a strong, solid punch to his jaw. He stumbled back, bringing his blade up sloppily to defend against the barrage of quick strikes Larra dealt to him.

Finishing with a stronger blow and twist of her blade, she sent Ser Jaime's sword flying through the air and caught it in her left hand. Ser Jaime was on his back on the ground with both blades at his throat as Larra panted above him.

"Well, I must say that was one of the best spars I've ever seen...and our work was done for us."

Larra looked up to find a group of men a few yards in front of her. Her father was stood there with Lord Stannis, Lord Renly, Ser Davos, her uncle Benjen and a handful of guards, including Ser Rodrick and Jory Cassel. It had been Lord Renly that had spoken, though Larra didn't understand his meaning. Three guards, led by Jory, came forward and dragged Ser Jaime up, placing iron cuffs on his wrists. Shocked and confused, Larra sheathed her sword and handed Ser Jaime's own to a third guard. She watched with wide eyes as the men forced Ser Jaime to stand in front of her father. Shireen grabbed one of her hands as Bran took the other and Arya watched from Shireen's side. She squeezed their hands gently in comfort.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ser Jaime growled, his tone dark with promise of repercussion. "It wasn't like I was going to hurt your precious bastard, Stark."

"This isn't about Larrra," her father replied evenly, his voice cold and hard like ice. "Ser Jaime Lannister, you are under arrest for treason, by way of having incestuous relations with your twin sister, Cersei Lannister and fathering her bastard children- Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Take him to the dungeons."

Once Ser Jaime was taken away, Larra approached the group of men left. They were talking amongst themselves, planning how to tell King Robert and take care of the Lannister soldiers. All Larra could think about was sweet Myrcella and soft-hearted Tommen, their bodies covered in red cloaks- bloodied and broken. She remembered Maester Luwin's lessons on the Rebellion that ended the Targaryen Dynasty. She remembered his solemn face and grave tone as he spoke of the terrible fates of little Rhaenys and Aegon. Rhaenys, only three years old, had been pulled out from beneath her father's bed and stabbed half a hundred times. Aegon, a helpless babe, had been thrown against a wall, his skull shattered against the stone. Tywin Lannister had odered their bodies to be wrapped up in Lannister red cloaks to hide the blood. They had been laid before the Iron Throne and presented to Robert Baratheon as a token of fealty. Would the same fate meet Myrcella and Tommen?

"My lords," she said, interrupting their talk and gaining their attention. "What of Myrcella and Tommen?"

"What of them?"

The question came from Lord Stannis, his tone abrupt and rough. His detached manner and cold demeanor set Larra on edge, a fury building in her chest. She was speaking before she knew what she was saying, taking a step that brought her toe to toe with the stern lord.

"Are they to be condemned for the crimes their parents committed?" Larra asked harshly, practically growling with hard grey eyes. "Joffrey is old enough for the NIght's Watch but Tommen is too young, too sweet for such a harsh place. Will he be sent to Old Town, to the Citadel to become a Maester? Will Myrcella be sent to the Silent Sisters or train to become a Septa?"

"What would you have me do?" he asked, his dark blue eyes boring into hers.

Larra looked like a true wolf when she all but snarled, "Not allow them to become nothing but broken, bloodied bodies hidden beneath cloaks! It wouldn't be the first time your brother stepped over the bodies of innocent children to get what he wants!"

"Larra!"

The young woman had suffered many lectures and complaints from Lady Catelyn, but never from her father. His deep voice cut through the crisp air and brought Larra back to her senses. Instead of feeling the sting of being reprimanded, Larra knew she was right and her own honor demanded that she stand up for what she believed in. She stepped away from Lord Stannis and looked into the grey eyes so much like her own.

"You taught me about honor and what it means to uphold your word, father. Last time, you arrived too late," she said evenly, her voice hard like iron and her eyes dark like steel. "...but if you sit by and allow those children to be _murdered_ in cold blood...I will never forgive you."

Larra swept her eyes over the men gathered, her expression showing just how disgusting she found the whole situation. Without another word, she spun on her heel and fled to the solitude of the Godswood.


	3. Chapter 3

A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire

Chapter Three

An hour passed and still, Larra remained sitting among the roots of the Heart Tree in the Godswood. Ghost had found her shortly after she got there, offering her comfort with his presence alone. With his pure white fur and blood red eyes, the Direwolf pup practically blended in with the weirwood tree behind them. Her fingers ran along his back, running through the soft fur. The contact allowed her to feel it when Ghost tensed, his head lifting up to look at something. Or someone, Larra amended, as she looked up to find Lord Stannis a few yards away. The young woman stood, Ghost following her example, and watched as the man approached her. He stopped when only a few feet remained between them. Figuring that she had the first and last word in their previous encounters, Larra waited for him to speak. Lord Stannis stood stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. Grey once more met blue and Larra finally figured out what his eyes reminded her of. They looked like the sea before a storm, dark and intense.

"Lord Stark and I have spoken. We've decided that your words, while bold, held truth to them and your ideas had merit. Joffrey shall be sent to the Wall to pledge his service to the Night's Watch with Benjen, once his visit is over. Myrcella and Tommen will become wards of Winterfell until their fates are decided. Since you were so eager to champion them, you will be the one to look after them."

After spending the last hour imagining various outcomes, each more horrifying than the last, Larra was so relieved that she stepped forward and embraced Lord Stannis. The man tensed against her, bringing Larra back to her senses that had momentarily fled her. Embarrassed and again blushing in this man's presence, Larra hurriedly stepped away from him. Mortified, she looked anywhere but at the man in front of her. Lord Stannis cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, but didn't speak again.

"Thank you, Lord Stannis. I'm glad to hear that they'll be spared," Larra murmured quietly.

"Something that you must help with," he said, once more meeting her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"As I said, your words held truth. When we tell my brother of Cersei's treachery, he'll be furious. In his rage, he'll be blind to all good sense. Lord Stark and I have agreed that the children shouldn't be here when that happens. In the morning, you will take the children outside Winterfell for a picnic. Renly and Benjen will accompany you all. When everything is settled, I will send Ser Davos to retrieve you."

"By 'when everything is settled'...you mean, when it's safe and the King is no longer a threat to the children's lives."

Larra ducked her head as soon as the words were out, "Forgive me. I speak out of turn."

"No," he denied. "I would prefer that you speak your mind to me. Especially if..."

"Especially if..? What?"

"Lord Stark and I are not foolish enough to think that we can keep Ser Jaime and Cersei's arrest a secret for long. Word will eventually reach Tywin Lannister's ears."

"And once that happens, he will call his banners to war," Larra added quietly. "The Kingdoms will bleed again and all because one woman couldn't bear her duty."

"Yes," he agreed. "War is coming...and as such, alliances need to be made. Some secured by marriage."

"Marriage? Who is getting married?" Larra asked, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. "Not my siblings? Or Shireen? They are too young. Robb, perhaps...but to who?"

"Not Robb."

Larra looked back to him, finding his eyes riveted on her. She could only imagine the expression on her face when she came to the last conclusion.

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "I'm just a bastard."

"You are the eldest daughter of one of the Great Houses and of childbearing age."

"Who am I to marry?" she asked, still shocked and confused.

Lord Stannis looked away from her and Larra felt as if her breath was stolen from her. Ever since hearing of the King's visit, she had been worried that he would look at her and see only Lyanna Stark. All her life, growing up in Winterfell, Larra had heard whispers of how much she looked like her aunt, only more beautiful. It had been a point of contention with Lady Catelyn, that she looked more Stark than her father's true born children did. Only Arya had the Stark looks- dark hair, grey eyes and long face. Though, Larra's face wasn't as long and her features were more refined. The servants liked to gossip and often spoke of what a great beauty her mother must've been to pass her looks onto Larra. Now that King Robert could absolve his marriage to Cersei, would he want to marry her? To her knowledge, she had remained out of the King's sight fairly well so far. The thought of marrying and being bedded by the fat drunkard who couldn't keep to one woman made her stomach roil in protest. In that moment, she felt she understood Cersei Lannister, if only just a little.

"Not him," Larra heard herself say, sounding desperate to her own ears. "Anyone but him."

Lord Stannis looked back at her with furrowed eyebrows, "Him, who?"

"King Robert."

Lord Stannis's eyes widened before he shook his head, "You're not to marry Robert. Even with you being legitimized as a Stark, a better match would need to be made for him."

"Oh," Larra said, embarrassed about her reaction but mostly relieved. "I thought...with my likeness to my aunt Lyanna..."

He nodded in understanding. It was, after all, well known how Robert had loved the Stark girl. Larra then realized that she still didn't know the name of her husband-to-be.

"Who am I to marry, then?"

"Me."

Larra was shocked. She wondered what else, besides her Stark name and ability to bear children, did her father offer Lord Stannis for him to marry her. Legitimized or not, a bastard would always truly be a bastard. The young woman went through everything she knew of the Lord of Dragonstone. She knew that he should've been the Lord of Storm's End, but was given Dragonstone after Robert's Rebellion. Rumor was, King Robert was angry that Lord Stannis failed to capture the last Targaryen children and denied him Storm's End, giving the castle, lands and titles to Renly instead. She also remembered hearing something about King Robert bedding a woman in Lord Stannis's marriage bed the day of his wedding. Now, only days ago, King Robert had overlooked Lord Stannis who had served him faithfully and made her father the new Hand of the King. She wondered how big of a slight he saw her as?

"I'm sorry, my lord. I know you wouldn't have picked me, given the right to choose. You are the Lord of a Great House and I'm just a bastard. I'm sorry that after Storm's End and being passed over for the new Hand, that I'm just another insult to you."

He seemed shocked at her words, his eyebrows being raised the way they were. A few moments passed in silence and just as he opened his mouth to speak, her uncle Benjen appeared.

"There you are, Larra. Come on, dinner is about to begin."

Larra nodded to him, giving Lord Stannis a curtsey before walking passed her uncle. He followed her a moment later and walked with her to the Great Hall. All throughout dinner, she sat beside Robb and ignored the intense blue eyes that rarely left her. She retired to her room earlier than usual and cuddled with Ghost until she fell asleep.

-:- -:- -:- .Game of Thrones. -:- -:- -:-

Larra looked up from watching Arya, Bran, Rickon and Tommen playing together while Sansa, Myrcella and Jeyne had a tea party, to see Ser Davos riding towards them. Renly and Benjen distacted the children, so Larra could speak with Ser Davos. As soon as the man dismounted, Larra was next to him.

"Ser Davos?"

He nodded to her.

"The King has accepted the conditions for the children's safety, my lady."

Larra relaxed, her whole body seeming to sag in relief.

"Lord Stark has called his banners. The Northmen should be arriving in the following weeks. Lord Stannis's and Lord Renly's bannermen will be arriving in a few days, since they had been called before our journey here."

"Are you supposed to be telling me this, Ser?" she couldn't help but ask. "Talk of war is hardly a suitable subject for a lady, after all."

Larra hated to say that, but she needed to test the waters, so to speak. Ser Davos was perhaps Lord Stannis's most loyal and trusted vassal. The former smuggler seemed to see right through her but answered her truthfully anyway.

"Lord Stannis expressly told me to inform you of any and all updates on the current situation," he explained. "Lord Stark has spoken of your upbringing and interests. You were taught alongside your brother, learning things more suited to the heir of a lord, instead of a baseborn daughter. Regardless, Lord Stannis appreciates your intelligence, honesty and compassion. He wants a wife who can stand beside him as an equal, not a woman who says one thing to his face and another entirely behind his back. You have already proven that you will speak your mind, no matter what he may think about it."

Larra ignored the way her cheeks flushed and her heart fluttered, "He told you that himself, did he?"

"Lord Stannis told me about his intentions before he asked Lord Stark for your hand. He has quite a high regard for you, my lady."

"Wait," Larra said, surprised at his confession. "Lord Stannis _asked_ for my hand? Personally?"

"Yes. Lady Selyse died over two years ago and he would need to remarry eventually. I was a bit surprised myself. I've known the man for eighteen years and I've never seen him so," he trailed off, seemingly thinking of the right word. "...taken...with a woman before. I can't say I blame him. You're a lovely woman, clever, beautiful and Shireen has certainly taken a shine to you."

"So, when the talk of alliances came up...Lord Stannis asked for my hand?" Larra asked, fishing for more information.

Ser Davos furrowed his eyebrows, "No. He went to Lord Stark the morning before we arrested Jaime Lannister. I suppose your marriage might be considered a political marriage for the sake of an alliance, but Lord Stannis asked for your hand before he even told Lord Stark about Cersei's treachery."

"You're saying that Lord Stannis wanted to marry me while I was still a bastard."

"Aye. Though, between himself and Lord Stark, he was certain that they could persuade the King to legitimize you. Truthfully, I think he would have married you regardless," Ser Davos said, before chuckling a bit. "It's been quite amusing, seeing him staring at you like some inexperienced boy with his first crush. Don't tell him I said that."

"No," Larra forced out through her shock. "I won't."

Larra's mind was spinning with the new revelations that Ser Davos had imparted to her. As they packed up and headed back to Winterfell, she tried to make sense of her own thoughts and feelings when it came to the enigmatic lord, Stannis Baratheon. By the time she rode into the courtyard, Larra had decided that she would make the best of her situation. She would try to be the best wife possible to Lord Stannis. It wasn't as if he were old and fat, nor ugly. In fact, Larra found him rather attractive. He wasn't handsome in an obvious way like some lords and knights, but more similar to a Northman, more rugged in a way. If he continued to place value on her thoughts and ideas, Larra knew she could one day love him. King Robert was no where to be seen when they arrived, something she was grateful for. Even if he had agreed to leave the children alone, Larra still feared what could happen if he crossed their paths too soon. Her father was also missing, but Lord Stannis was there. His large hands helped her from her saddle to the ground.

"My lady," he greeted, nodding his head to her as he took a step back.

There was something different in his eyes, the way he looked at her as if something had changed between them. Larra dipped a small curtsey as a stableboy took Snowstorm away and everyone else left them alone.

"Lord Stannis," she returned the greeting.

A few moments passed in silence before Larra couldn't hold her tongue any longer, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Ser Davos," she blurted out. "...he said you asked for my hand."

His jaw clenched and he looked away from her, all but admitting it as truth. Larra, stunned but needing to know more, stepped forward until they were close.

"Was marrying me always part of the plan? Did you leave King's Landing, knowing that you would tell King Robert the truth and that you would have to marry me for an alliance? Or did you ask for my hand because you wanted to marry me because you just...wanted me?" She threw out question after question, something in her needing to hear what he had to say. "Which is it, Lord Stannis? Tell me. I need to know."

When silence stretched between them, Larra sighed.

"I had thought that I was forced upon you. I thought you saw me nothing but an insult-"

"Whether for an alliance or by order of my brother, marrying you would never be an insult," he spoke quickly. "Yes, I asked for your hand. No, it wasn't my plan. When I saw you in the courtyard, half-hidden behind your siblings, all I could think about was how beautiful you were. I was expecting, regardless of your status, for you to be like all women who know how lovely they are- vain, vapid and naive. When I found you training, I knew I was wrong. As you spoke to your uncle, Tyrion Lannister and even myself, you proved yourself an intelligent, clever and passionate woman."

"Yes," he confessed quietly, a look of longing coming to his face. "I want you. I've never wanted anything more than I want you as my wife. It is not I that should feel insulted, going into this marriage...but you."

Larra went to speak but she was interrupted.

"Lady Larra?"

Larra looked over to Myrcella, who held her younger brother's hand in her own.

"Yes, Myrcella?"

"Can you help us find our mother? She's not in her room and I can't seem to find anyone who knows where she is."

Larra's heart fell, knowing that they would have to be told the truth.

"There's something I need to tell you both," Larra said, moving to lead them to her room.

Pausing mid-step, she spun around and looked at Lord Stannis. He was standing there, not looking at her nor the children, with an expression of bitter acceptance on his face. It was as if he knew for certain that she could never want to be with him. It appeared that it wasn't just her own self-confidence that lacked but Lord Stannis's as well. Straightening her shoulders in decision, she walked back to him. He looked at her when she stopped in front of him. Larra, feeling bold, pushed herself onto her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Perhaps, we can speak again? Once I'm finished speaking with the children?"

He gave a nod, his eyes wide in disbelief and a light flush to his cheeks that endeared her to him further. Giving him another curtsey, Larra left with Myrcella and Tommen. The butterflies in her stomach fled once she reached her room and was replaced with dread. She hated having to be the one to tell such sweet children of how their whole lives were about to change.


	4. Chapter 4

A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire

Chapter Four

Larra made her way to the stables, hoping to take her mind off of the difficult conversation she just had with Myrcella and Tommen. The children had cried when the truth was revealed to them, while Larra did her best to comfort them. After calming them down and explaining how they were now wards of Winterfell, the pair had fallen asleep in her bed. Just before she could step outside from the Great Keep, a voice halted her in her steps. She turned around to find Lady Catelyn approaching her.

"I suppose you think yourself better than my children now," the older woman said, her lip curling up in distaste. "Don't be a fool. You will always be nothing more than a bastard that should've never made it from your whore mother's stomach."

Larra was shocked. While she had long since become used to the cold looks and uncaring attitude of her father's wife, Lady Catelyn had never said such cruel words to her before.

"My ladies."

They both looked to the side to find that it was Jory Cassel that had spoken.

"I've been sent to take you to your father's solar, Lady Larra."

Larra nodded, moving passed Lady Catelyn and making the trip down familiar halls. Soon, Jory was walking at her side and luckily, kept quiet about what he had heard. Her mind was spinning, not understanding the reason behind Lady Catelyn's words. How did marrying Lord Stannis make her better than her siblings? All it would do was make her a lady, the same as Sansa and Arya. Did the redheaded woman just hate that she'd have the same standing as them? She pushed the woman's words and her confusion to the back of her mind when they arrived to her father's solar. Jory knocked and left her alone once Lord Stark bid her to join him. When she entered her father's solar, he was alone and sat behind his desk.

"Larra," her father greeted, standing up and gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. "Please, sit."

She nodded and sat, feeling anxious of what he needed to speak with her about.

"Larra. King Robert has decided against legitimizing any of his baseborn children, to prevent another situation like the Dance of Dragons. He has also refused to remarry."

"But that means..." Larra said, trailing off.

Suddenly, Lady Catelyn's words made much more sense. Her anger and hatred had reached a boiling point. It was one thing for Larra to marry a lord and move South, it was something else entirely for her to marry and become the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. For once, Lady Catelyn would have to defer to her, her husband's bastard.

"In a few days, you will marry Lord Stannis and once crowned, you will become Queen."

"Queen?" Larra choked out. "Father, I can't...I don't...I'm just..."

"I think that this is the best way things could have turned out," he said, regaining her attention. "I'm sorry, Larra. I have lied to you...to my wife...to my King...to everyone. I promised your mother to keep you safe, to raise you here, in Winterfell...as my daughter. Oh, Larra...I loved your mother so much..."

Larra remained silent, having waited her whole life to learn about her mother. He had made a promise to her. He had loved her...but something sounded off about the way he worded it.

"I loved her from the moment our own mother placed her into my arms. Lyanna was my little sister, the only girl and I promised to protect her to the best of my ability. When I found her in that tower, dying in childbed, I was devastated. Father...Brandon...and then, Lyanna...they were all gone. She had heard about what happened to Rhaenys and Aegon and knew that a similar fate would await you, if anyone discovered the truth. Lyanna went with Rhaegar willingly and they were married on the Isle of Faces. I wanted you to have a good life, a happy life. I thought that it could be achieved without a crown...but I think it was always meant to be this way. You were destined for it. You, Larra, are and have always been the true heir to the-"

"No!"

He came out of his memories then, and finally, looked to her. Larra was breathing heavily, shaking her head back and forth in denial. Her stomach protested and she fought against the bile that rose in her throat. How could it be true? Was that why he looked so stricken, the first time he heard her play the harp? Because Rhaegar Targaryen was known to play so beautifully and she took after him? Did all of the gossip about how alike she was to his sister, Lyanna, bother him, not because he missed his sister but because he was raising her daughter? Larra felt her world crumbling from beneath her. She felt like she was in the throes of a nightmare. Her entire life was a lie. How could she ever accept Rhaegar Targaryen as her true father, when it wasn't his face that accompanied the owrd 'father'? She felt like she couldn't breath properly, her body trembled and she felt both too hot and too cold.

"Larra-"

"No!"

Despite the tears clouding her vision, Larra fled the solar and ran through the halls. It seemed like the walls were closing in on her and she couldn't get a deep enough breath. She burst outside, the cool air helping to clear her head some but doing nothing for the overwhelming emotions she was feeling. Her feet took her to the Godswood before she even knew where she wanted to go, running passed Lords Stannis and Renly and Ser Davos. She ignored their concerned calls, not stopping until she felt the smooth bark of the Heart Tree beneath her hands. Collapsing at the weirwood's base and curling up among the roots, Larra cried. She cried for her young mother, her Princely father, the father she knew and the girl she was before the King came to Winterfell. Just when she felt like she was drowning and would never again be able to look at things the same, a pair of strong arms came around her. The person pulled her into their chest and ran hesitant fingers through her hair. Once calm and collected, Larra wiped her face and looked up into deep blue eyes.

"If you wish me to step aside, I will."

Larra's eyebrows furrowed at his comment, not understanding it. He must have noticed her confusion, because Lord Stannis explained further.

"Lord Stark told me. I may be all that Robert has for an heir, but you are the only living child of Rhaegar Targaryen. There are many that would support your claim, including me. If it is your wish, I will step aside and you can marry another. I'm sure you will have many suitors after your hand. You deserve a man who is amiable, good humored and who will win tourneys in your name and name you his Queen of Love and Beauty."

"Is this about you? Or me? Is it your wish to set me aside," she questioned hotly, pulling back from him. "I don't seem like such a good choice for you now, do I? Having one grandfather who killed the other, burning him to death in his armor, isn't exactly an attractive quality to have in a bride, is it? Don't want to chance afflicting your line with madness? So much for wanting me."

Larra went to stand but a hand around her arm stopped her.

"Do you forget that my own grandmother was a Targaryen?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers. "You are the most beautiful, intelligent and passionate woman I've ever met. Why would you want me, when you could have any man of your choosing?"

"And if I don't want any of them?" Larra asked. "If I want you?"

"I will accept your words, even if I find them hard to believe," he replied. "What would you ask of me, my lady?"

"I would ask that you stand beside me, on my best day and on my worst. I would ask the you provide me with strength when I'm at my weakest. I want you to ask me what I'm thinking at any time of the day or night, not because you feel obligated to do so, but because you're truly interested to know. I want you to stop everything and seek me out because you can't bare to go another moment without seeing my face, hearing my voice and feeling my hand in yours," Larra voiced passionately, taking his hand in her own and lacing their fingers. "I want you to there when I wake up in the morning and when I go to sleep at night. I want you to see Larra when you look at me...not a Snow, or a Stark, or even a Targaryen. I want to know you as I know myself...every dream and nightmare, every hope and fear, every happy memory and the sad ones too."

"Call me a fool, if you wish, but I want all of that," Larra continued. "And if you would but give it to me, I would see that I give the same to you. I will do all I can to make you a good wife, to give you children and be a woman worthy of standing at your side as your Queen."

"Give that to me, Stannis...but as yourself. I don't want a valiant Knight to win tourneys in my name, a courtly lord to write poems of my beauty or a handsome Prince to lavish me with expensive gifts. I want a man, just and honorable, plain and simple. I want it to be true, not some put on act to make me happy. I want you, just as you are," she finished.

"My lady," he responded, his voice sounding bit breathless.

Larra leaned forward until there was only an inch or two between their faces and she felt his breath on her face. Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, feeling the slightest bit of a beard on his shaven skin with the tips of her fingers.

"Two months ago, I was wondering where my life was headed. Would I remain in Winterfell as Robb became Lord in our father's stead? Remain alone as my sisters were married off? Left to suffer Lady Catelyn's cold glares and cutting remarks for the rest of my life? A week ago, I was waiting for the King to leave, worried that my father would go with him. Yesterday, I found out that I was to be legitimized and married to the King's brother. Now, I've been told that I'm the daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark...a legitimate heir to the Iron Throne." Larra said softly, her voice just nothing but a whisper between them. "My whole world has been turned upside down, flipped on its head. I feel like I'm caught in the middle of a storm, being dragged beneath the waves. What is there to keep me from drowning?"

"Me," he replied, his tone strong with conviction. "I won't let you drown."

"Promise?"

Their lips were so close that her question was felt just as much as it was heard.

"I swear it, my lady."

Larra's hand slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck and into his hair. Their lips touched lightly, hers full and soft, his thin and slightly chapped. Suddenly, both of them felt a swipe of wetness from a tongue on their faces. Jerking away from each other, they looked at the one who interrupted them.

"Ghost!"

-:- -:- -:- .Game of Thrones. -:- -:- -:-

Larra lay across her bed in the same position she flopped down in nearly half an hour ago. The passed three days had been a whirlwind of meeting the lords from the Stormlands, Crownlands and a few bannermen of the North. The education given to her by Maester Luwin was put into use as she was able to identify each lord, their lands and house words. She had stood with her father, Lord Stannis, Lord Renly and King Robert to welcome them all to Winterfell. She had been introduced as Larra Stark, the soon to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Her hand had been kissed by more men in the last three days than ever before, due to her new status. She sat at the high table between Lord Stannis and Lord Renly, much to Lady Catelyn's displeasure. Just that morning, she had been fitted for her wedding/coronation dress. It was going to be made from fabrics gifted to her from the Manderlys of White Harbor. The wedding ceremony would be held in the Godswood in front of the Heart Tree with the present lords in attendance. Afterwards, they would walk to the Sept where the coronation would be held. It was quite a new experience for her, though she supposed she'd need to get used to it.

A knock came at the door, interrupting her solitude. Larra huffed silently, pulling herself up into a more respectable position.

"Come in."

The door opened and her father stepped into her bedchambers, Jory and another guard following behind and carrying a chest. They set it down and left, Jory closing the door behind him.

"What is this?" Larra asked, looking between her father and the chest.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the bed, "Howland and I collected everything from the tower before we tore it down. There are letters, journals, a few trinkets and...your father's harp. I thought you might like to have it all."

"I know I've allowed Catelyn too much reign to treat you coldly and I know I'm just as guilty as keeping you at arm's length at times. I knew I would have to tell you the truth one day and I knew that when I did I would have to give you to Rhaegar, your true father. I was selfish. But if you know nothing else, Larra," he said quietly, staring into the hearth. "...know that I love you as if you are my own."

He stood and went to leave but Larra caught him before he could open the door. She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, burying her face in his chest.

"None of it matters," she told him. "You will always be my father."

While Larra was curious of learning more about her parents, she didn't feel ready to dive into the past. Her life had changed too much, too soon. She needed time to settle in her new role first. With her mind made up, she pulled the chest to the end of her bed and laid a fur pelt over it.


	5. Author's Note

A She-Wolf that Breathes Fire

Author's Note.

It's been brought to my attention that I didn't add the usual warning, so I will do it now. I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, the characters or plotlines that my appear in my story. It all belongs to George R. R. Martin and in some aspects, HBO, David Benioff and D. B. Weiss. Therefore, if you recognize words or sentences, then it's obviously not mine.

Thank you all for your reviews.

Radio Free Death- Thank you for your review and suggestions. I will attempt to develop Larra's character better in future chapters. Sometimes, I find myself getting ahead of my writing and speeding up the plot, to its detriment. Hopefully, I will find the time and dedication to go back and revise/rewrite previous chapters.

Greydappledowl


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